Memoirs of a Night Captain
by femensqueterror
Summary: For too many years I have been in chains because of my past deeds. Deeds I believe could have been evaded. Such simple things have shackled me to self-pity, insecurity, pain, anger, and perhaps an unrequited love...no not love.
1. Hemisphere

Yo, yo yo...lol Yeah I know that I've been gone for umpteen months but here is an update forgive me!!

lol

Yeah is story will step foot on the relams of angst, abuse, self-loathing...yah it's pretty dark, but I liked writing it so I hope you will enjoy reading it. Please review people's and I will get the second chapter up and running

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**Memoirs of a Night Captain:**

Chapter 1: Hemisphere

_"__**Even so,**_

_**Just what in the world,**_

_**Can someone like me possibly do...?**_

_**The reality in this cramped miniature garden,**_

_** To change it, what can I do?**_

_**I haven't even lived out half of my life yet,**_

_**Rebelling and embracing each other,**_

_**Tattoos of experience are chiseled in without me realizing it...**_

_**When I am forced to stand at the edge of cliff,**_

_**Adversity grabs me by the arm,**_

_**And then I saw where I belonged for the very first time.  
**_

_**To an even vaster field, **_

_**To some place even deeper and bigger,**_

_**Where I just defiantly face the utterly unpredictable world..." **_

_**--**_

My name, my life, my title, my self. It does not matter. For too many years I have been in chains because of my past deeds. Deeds I believe could have been evaded. Such simple things have shackled me to self-pity, insecurity, pain, anger, and perhaps an unrequited love? No. Not love...

In order for my words to be understood you must follow my story...My lightening quick revolutions as I went from a child to the adult I am now.

So let us begin...

I had neither a conventional nor happy childhood. I cannot say that I was happy with it nor can I say I was content.

For reasons I would not know until I was on the stepping stones to adulthood, my foster father sent me to live with the Ilmatian monks in the forest just beyond the depressing swamps of the mere. I was six when he first left me in their care.

I remember being scared and clinging to my foster father, begging and crying for him not to leave me. He, instead of coddling me with warm words, pushed me to the cold stone floors of the monastery and left without a sound. I sat on my faintly sore behind watching him leave and crying, screaming for him to return. I cannot recall how long I was in this state but a large gentle hand comforted my little shoulder and I began to calm down hearing kind and wise words.

"Why do you cry so much my child? Do not believe that he has gone forever, but only for a spell. For reasons he has not allowed us to know, he has entrusted you to us and let I can see his decision has hurt you. Endurance, child that is one of Ilmater's many principles and starting now you will learn to let vices seep into you yet cause you no harm." As if on command, or because of the atmosphere of my new home my tears ceased and the final couple that slid down my cheeks, where wept away by a foreign cloth.

"Here, my child, turn around to face me." Still shivering from my hasty abandonment, I turned to face the owner of the kind, yet wise, voice. My young eyes widened but eventually softened at the face of the man. An adult to me then, but little did I know of how fast children grew under the guidance of Ilmatian monks. His black hair shined brightly under the light of the burning wall torch, the light also accentuating his well-formed face and grass-colored eyes.

"There..." He opened his arms, ready to embrace me. Frightened, I scooted away from him shaking my head.

"I-I d-don't know you," I stammered over my words as my eyes looked down to study the stone floors. The sound of his quiet steps moving towards me brought on the fear again and I crawled across the floor, as far away as I could until I came to a wall. The man with a kind voice smiled and pressed his back against the wall, slowly sliding down until he was sitting next to me. Afraid, I buried my face full of fear and anguish in my hands, my knees pressed to my chest.

"Please dry your tears, my girl. What can your humble servant and master do to cease your pain?" he asked his voice soft and gentle as the hand that was once on my shoulder. Yet, I continued to sob into my hands. In my grief, I do not remember him pulling my small weightless frame into his lap, I did not feel his arms encircle me, but I do recall the strong musky scent of temple oils before falling asleep.

Later I woke up in a room. The bed was infused with that soothing odor I remembered breathing in before I passed out.

"I see you have awakened. Here," the man gestured to a cup he was holding in his hands, "we must restore some of that liquid your body lost from your tears." I sat up slowly, my eyes jumping from the cup to his pleasant face and back.

"I didn't cry all that much..." The man chuckled.

"You still need to replenish you strength." I shook my head, refusing the cup as he ordered it to me. "Don't be too stubborn now. This is for your own good, Mannah." I jerked my hand up at the sound of my name.

"You know my name?" I asked my voice cautious as a young deer. The man nodded and grabbed one of my hands, forcing me to hold the large cup.

"Yes, do you wish to know mine?" I nodded looking into the cup, seeing a red liquid.

"It is Gauron, I must apologize though. As I am your master you cannot call me by my name...At least not in front of others."

"What is this? It's creepy looking and smells funny!" My master shook his head.

"It will be good for you I promise." Trusting him, I took a sip of the drink and wrinkled my nose at the foul taste.

"Yuck." My master smiled at me again, his green eyes locking with mine.

"Most of the other monks gag and complain you only just grimace. You are a special girl, Mannah. Go ahead and attempt to drink the rest."

"Okay," I replied slightly confused by my master's words. Just as he said, I began to drink the rest of the liquid, its foul taste and pungent smell enflaming my senses, but all the while I was determined to finished the cup. "It's really bad tasting, but I finished, Sir Ron." He stared at me in shock.

"Excuse me for my rudeness but extraordinary you are, my child." His hand briefly brushed against mine as he retrieved the pewter cup from my small hands, the kind smile back on his face. "Sir Ron? It's Gauron... and you aren't supposed to say it."

"I know, but...you look like a lord or king to me..." Embarrassed I turned away from him, feeling my cheeks burn red.

"Y-You must be mistaken my child..." He paused for a while before speaking again. "I am only a humble monk, born with common origins. I've no blood of kings or lords...Maybe this was a young attempt at flattery? No..." I cowered behind the silky sheets of the bed as he stood up from his chair and began pacing the room, mumbling to himself. It wasn't before long that the man excused himself and left me to wonder about, Gauron, my master.

From there it began.

Before dawn the next day, my master woke me and guided me through the large temple until we approached a pair of large wooden doors. Most gracefully he opened the door and ushered me inside, my mouth stood agape in amazement. There were books, upon books! So many bookcases and each one extended to the ceiling full of books.

"I see you like it," said my master as he walked past me and towards a book case on the far side of the room. He approached me again with three large books in his hands; one was placed on the table next to me while the others were shoved into my arms.

"Ah! They are heavy!" My master smiled at me.

"Yes, you are correct, my child. Now hold your arms out straight, with your palms flat, the books lying on them." I did as I was told and after a few seconds my arms began to ache.

"This hurts," I whined looking in my master's direction for help. But instead of relieving me of my pain he sat in the modest wooden chair next to the table and watched me. A queer silence filled the room as he sat calmly observing me and my discomfort. At least the pain in my young arms was too much and the books greeted the floor with a defining slam. Gauron's eyes connected with mine, his expression frightening me because I could not read it. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Forget the pain. Pick up the books and try again. Do not put them down until I tell you to do so." I bit the inside of my cheek as I listened to his calm, serious tone. Again I held the books in front of me, and after a few minutes my arms ached once again. My teeth dug into my cheek as I whimpered and shifted painfully. Suddenly the door burst open and a woman stepped into the room addressing my master.

After bowing respectfully she began to speak.

"Excuse me, Gauron, Master Rheno has summoned you. He mentions that you are late for your training." Her eyes smiled as my master stood up from his chair.

"Well I guess there is no way to avoid that. Tell him I will be there promptly." The woman nodded and bowed once more before exiting. My master turned to me.

"Follow me and remember what I told you. Do _not_ drop those books." I nodded solemnly, thinking of nothing but when he would allow me to stand without holding these heavy books. Was I being punished for something? I followed Gauron out of the library, through the halls of the monastery and outside. Before stepping out of the temple I noticed that no one was inside of the building and my master could not have lived here alone, but now I set foot upon the grass here they all were. All around me people were sparring, training, using their bodies in ways I could have never imagined. For the second time that day I was in awe.

Meeting with an older man with sprinkles of grey in his hair (I assumed that this was Master Rheno) my master ordered me to stand a significant distant away and watch. This task would have been much easier if I was not distracted by the pain in my arms and again my strength faded, the books tumbling into the grass. Fearing another scolding I quickly, picked up the books and held them straight out. This time I was more determined to not drop them again.

As more pain weighted my arms down, I began to observe the events occurring around me.

At first I watched Gauron train with his master. My young eyes were glued to his muscular frame as he moved with the fluidity and grace of a feline. His fists were quick, kicks invisible...This was first time I noticed that he was bare foot, only wrapped linen cloth covering him from the heel to the balls of his foot. Also, his feet were huge! To get hit by something so big...No wonder why his master was having difficulty blocking and dodging his strikes.

"Haa!"

The clamorous shouts of all the monks on the training grounds began to flow into my ears. The rythmatic melody of their screams and breaths impressed me even more as I turned away from my master to watch the others. Male and female, both spared against one another respect, but there was something strange about all of the women- every one of their faces were covered by a red veil.

For what must have been hours I watched. I wanted to be like those beautifully, athletic women and the kind man I met yesterday, my master. I wanted to cut through the air with my hands and feet, I wanted flip through the air, but most of all...I wanted to become strong. The children in West Harbor always made fun of me for my bony legs and big eyes, and each time they picked with me I ran back to my father tears running down my cheeks. But if I fought like the people here...

"Mannah!" My master ran over to me his eyes bright and full of joy, despite his heavy panting. "Oh, girl...Did you hold them up all this time?" I took a step away from him, eyes cast to the ground.

"N-no, I-I dropped them." I felt the weight of my arms subside greatly as my master relieved me of my burden. Again, tears wield up in my eyes.

"Shh, there is no need for you to shed any tears," he crouched down to my level. "Why so sad?"

"Y-you are going to be mad for me dropping them," I managed to say in between sobs.

"No, no, my child," He dropped the books in the grass, as he placed a hand on the back of my head, guiding me into his comforting embrace. "You did extremely well. My master has even noticed, he proclaimed that we should start training you immediately. Stop your tears." For some reason I began to cry harder, uncontrollably even. My master tried to calm me, but nothing he would do would suffice.

I cannot remember whether it was happiness or sorrow, but I continued my fit as he lifted me off the ground and carried me back to his room. He tried to place me on the bed, but I clung on to his neck, not wanting to let go. So he sat on the edge of his bed with me, a crying child, in his lap.

Maybe it was my imagination, or maybe I can no longer recall the accurate events, but his arms tightened around me as he drew me closer his board sweat covered chest. My senses were soon full of nothing but his smell, the beat of his heart, his touch. I felt his breath blow gently against my ear as he whispered the words I would remember for the rest of my life:

"Your tears break my heart...As long as I live I'll swear my life to your happiness as it is also mine."

I woke up later that evening my eyes swollen from my tears and still in my master's arms.

The next day my training began. I was to learn the principle and customs of my new brothers and sisters, included that I'd give my life to Ilmater. For hours on end I studied the religion and other choice book for my education here. When I turned seven, my master began to guide me through the various steps of becoming one with both my mind and body. As the years passed I spared with my master, never once landing a hand on him, balancing my body in the air with one hand on a wooden pole, lifting burdened bags nearly weighing as much as I, learning the art of mediation, testing my body's limit, and most important of all, learning that pain was an illusion created to imprison us. Ilmatian monks believed that to endure everything, was essential in breaking the illusions that imprisoned us.

I broke that barrier at the ripe age of thirteen.

It happened when I was sparing against one of the older monks, he was one move away from defeating me. He plowed his right foot into my temple, a move made to paralyze or knock me unconscious instantly. His foot connected perfectly but I simply closed my eyes and accepted the blow, having being defeated by this technique a number of times before, but this time nothing happened.

I felt no pain, just power.

I opened my eyes and grabbed the ankle of the monk with one hand, threw it away from me.

"Ilmater..." I ignored the gasps of the crowd of onlookers and began my final assault and if I could focus enough...

_"Relax and breathe deeply...Close your eyes, from you will not need to see your target. Use your inner power, your ki, to empower the strike and if you concentrate enough."_

My right fist thrust forward impatiently and I heard something fall to the ground. As I slowly opened my eyes, I noticed the monk lying motionless on the ground yards away from his original position, which was directly in front of me. I gasped surprised because my fist never connected with him, I thought I missed!

"Call the Grand Master! His prodigy..." I heard no more as a burned sensation claimed my right hand, this time I did not endure it and I fainted.

"Wake up my little bird..." That kind, gentle voice flowed through my mind as I stirred. Unconsciously I smiled feeling my master's large hands, holding my previously pained hand.

"Gauron?" I felt my smile widen and that weird movement in my heart again. His lips pressed gently against my knuckles, I sighed deeply, opening my eyes to see him. It was only last year I found out that my master was only a decade older than me consequently a few moments after my body signaled that I was becoming a woman. Since then, Gauron's master went to the gods and named my master as his successor; the youngest Grand Master ever at this temple. Unfortunately it did not stop the other women at the temple from wanting to be closer to him. He had a few lovers as I grew up, never showing any affection to them in front of me. I was grateful of that.

"Mannah," My heart twitched again at the sound of his voice speaking my name. This was probably because I was growing and my need to be with a man was strengthening. My master was a handsome man, chiseled jaw colored with the roguish dark hairs of a growing beard, light grass toned eyes which bore into your soul, his unruly black hair and sun-kissed skin, even his body was impressive; the outline of each of his well-trained muscles and his overwhelming height made the women at the temple worship the ground he walked upon. Of course this was a holy place, so all the women mainly gave him looks of smoldering adoration.

"What happened?" I asked sitting up.

"Ilmater branded you himself," he stated, running a finger over the crimson tattoo of bound hands on my right hand.

"What like he did you?!" I noticed the large hand that was caressing mine also had the mark. Gauron nodded and brought my hand to his lips, kissing the mark. Was it wrong that I wretched my hand away from him, frightened? Never before had I seen him like that and before I could gather my thoughts his eyes connected with mine; I was entranced. Slowly he came closer to me, his face so close to mine I could feel his warm breath on my unveiled lips. I shut my eyes and started closing the gap between us.

Harsh, rapid knocking transported me back to reality as I squealed childishly moving away from my master. He shook his head before getting up and answering the door. We never got that close again until two years later, the day I was going to leave to spend my summer and some of the harvest season in West Harbor; I was going back for the first time in nine years.

I had just packed up my small amount of possessions when a monk entered the room I shared with four others to tell me that my master had summoned me to his chambers for one last goodbye. I nodded and picked up my bag heading to his chamber at the other end of the temple. As I was walking I hear some of the female monks whispering.

"He likes women that young?"

"No, I'm not saying that! He adores that student of his...And I think it couldn't work out between us because he was always worrying about his little girl."

"Oh my..."

They ceased their conversation as I stopped to bow respectfully to them. I paid there words no heed; there was nothing but respect between my master and I.

Or so I fooled myself to believe.

I knocked gently, before letting myself in his expansive room. I spotted him sitting in his window, his chest slick and his hair wet, he probably just finished training. I closed the door softly behind me and walked over to him as he gazed out of the window.

"Never had I a day I didn't see you, since you arrived here. Months without your presence will be painful." I nodded in agreement.

"I wouldn't have decided to go if my father never requested it." My master continued to look out at the beautiful forest landscape.

"I know. But you must go see him again, then return to my side..." Something was different about Gauron's voice but I could not place it. I stepped closer to him smiling under my veil.

"Of course, but it won't be for long. But just in case, you should give me a hug for good luck." I noticed a smirk on his face, as he turned and stretched out his arms. Smiling I allowed him to pull me in his strong but awkward embrace, for his head was resting against my stomach. Then I felt it, his lips press against the skin above my bellybutton. As most of the female monks in the temple I only wore a simple linen band to cover my nakedness; the men usually wore no shirt at all.

A shiver went up my spine as his soft lips caressed my flesh; it was blissful, no matter how wrong it was.

"Bare my child," he whispered, lips brushing against my skin with every word. "Bare it, so we both can be happy."

I blushed deeply, as my hands cradled him against my belly. Of course, he meant what he said as good luck; masters said it all the time when their students left the temple. Yet, with his lips against my untouched womb I began to think of its double meaning. He couldn't possibly mean it that way.

"Mannah, be careful." He pulled himself away and stood up to his full height, standing more than a foot over me. Again his wrapped his arms around me but this time his hands were on my waist, finger massaging my skin. Ilmater, I knew this was wrong but he felt so right. I blinked as he removed a hand from my waist and brought it upward to caress my cheek.

"I'll worry all day and night." I shook my head slowly.

"No, you mustn't, master."

"It's Gauron, Mannah. Never call me master again." With that he snatched my veil from off my face and brought his closer to mine. I closed my eyes and accepted our sin. His nose brushed against mine and the contact made our hearts race. I could feel his heart; I could hear his beating with mine. A smile spread across my face as his hands wandered to my lower back. Our breathing was becoming hitched as we drew closer to each other. My body began to move on its own, I was standing on my toes so I could wrap my arms around his neck, my mouth parted for him, my head tilted to the side.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I felt his lips upon mine. His soft full lips upon mine...nothing was better. I believe my heart stopped beating as I returned his kiss. He was always so gentle with me...

I nearly burst out in sobs when he pulled away.

"Gods know I love you Mannah." He rubbed his nose against mine, wiping away my tears with his thumb.

I had to have been dreaming. Gauron could not have told me he loved me...but he did and I...

"I love you, too, Gauron." I moaned as his lips descended on mine before pulling away all too soon.

"When you become of age...will you be my wife?"

My mind went blank, thinking that I was hearing things. I had to be...he could not have proposed to me, so I stayed silent momentarily stunned by my confusion. There was a moment of silence between us, nothing but the thump of our hearts and irregular breathing were heard. He pressed his forehead against mine intensely staring into my eyes.

"Don't answer me until you come back."

"Okay," I answered, untangling my arms from around his neck and picking up my veil from the floor, I stared at it for a moment. This veil was given to me the moment after I became a woman; its purpose was to lessen the effects members of the opposite sex had on one another. Otherwise this temple would be full of orgies, or that's how my master put it. Then I had no idea about what an orgy was. So to make me understand he described a man's lust to me, and I knew these veils were for protection of our innocence.

Gauron stood watching me tie my veil, my hands still trembling from our recent contact. He suddenly pressed me hard against his chest, his mouth on my neck next. The soft bites and kisses made me hold on to him again, but I knew I had to go; if I stayed with him in this room any longer, I would never leave him.

"No...Gauron," I giggled at the feel of his stubble again my cheek, "I must go..."

"Stay in my arms." His voice was hoarse and full of emotion, his arms tightened around me and soon I was glued to his hard body. Something hard twitched against my inner thigh and I immediately frightened.

"Please let me go...I'm scared of this." He chuckled, his fingers caressing my cheek. I looked away from him.

"I know you are, but know that I would be gentle with you, I'd treasure you." Heat immediately rose to color my cheeks. This was going too far, if I didn't watch my words I would be on the floor with him in a matter of seconds. "Accept me, Mannah, even as corrupted as I am."

"No," I felt my arms wrapping around him again. "You are not corrupt. Our feelings..." I stopped myself before I could begin. Why in Ilmater's name was this so hard?

"Gauron please let me go to my father for a while then I will be back..." He placed a light kiss on my forehead before releasing me, he looked so defeated. "I promise I will be back soon! Please don't worry about me, everyone here looks to you for guidance."

"You are right. I will be patient." I smiled seeing his face brighten and again, like a fool, I ran back into his arms. We kissed once more, but my veil blocked us from actual contact; maybe it was for the best. After tearing myself away from him, I bowed respectively before running out of the room and the monastery, tears sliding down my face.

These next months would be challenging as my destiny I would not allow me to fulfill my promise to him.

_**--**_

_**"It's calling me again...**_

_**It's calling me again...**_

_**I just want to know more about myself..." -Maaya Sakamoto's Hemisphere**_


	2. Reptila

Hey hey hey, I'm back! lol Life definitely got in the way of my fanfiction writing, but hopefully some of you readers are still around! BUT I have been lurking around and I think that there has been a drought in the Bishop pairing, how dreadful! People please write some more Bishy-fics, you have to love the angry, conflicted, evil ranger!

I'll leave you all to reading...Enjoy and please review.

**Disclaimer: It's fanfiction.**

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Chapter 2: Reptila

"_**He seemed impressed by the way you came in,**_

'_**Tell us a story,**_

_**I know you're not boring.'**_

_**I was afraid that you would not insist.  
'You sound so sleepy  
just take this, now leave me'**_

_**I said please don't slow me down  
If I'm going too fast  
You're in a strange part of our town...**_

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I arrived in West Harbor in a timely fashion; it took no more than three days seeing as the temple was close to my birth home. The closer I came to my 'home' the more nervous I became. My gut fluttered as if it were full of butterflies waiting to burst out; no doubt I was excited but I was also scared. Would my father be proud of me after all of this time? Maybe I could ask him why he sent me to the monks in the first place. Many questions and more flowed through my mind and suddenly I was in front of the village gate. I walked in nervously as the smell of the swamp and grounds filled my nostrils.

Slowly, I walked down the path leading to a circle of homes and farmland. Seeing as it was nearly night, nothing but the buzzing of insects and croaks of frogs greeted me. Continuing down the dirt path, I noticed a group of three men conversing outside of a modest looking home. I approached them hoping that they could help me find my father's home.

"Excuse me?" Like a group of canines all three of their heads looked in my direction at once. My heart began to beat frantically as my legs locked themselves together and my breathing hastened. What was this that I was feeling?

But before I could straighten myself out one of the three stood up from the wooden stoop of the home and approached me. As he came closer his features became more defined, he was handsome, yes, but nothing like my master, if anything in a completely different way. His brown hair was short and cropped close to his skull with a small strip of equally colored brown hair lying underneath his bottom lip.

"Hmm, what are ya doin' out here kid? You know you're probably way past ya village, how about ya come stay wit' me and my brothers 'til mornin'?" His sudden offer frightened me even more. I really just wanted to see my father and make him proud. I shook my head hoping that he would go away; if only I could move…

"Come on kid! Dem lizardfolk are gonna skewer ya skinny butt if ya don't get inside." I shook my head again. "Don't be ridiculous…but if ya are gonna be that resilient." The man snapped his fingers and the two men (both very large and muscular) trotted up beside him. "Wyl. Webb. Show our guest here that famous Mossfield hospitality." With that the two men, grabbed both of my arms and dragged me into their home. I could have dislocated both of their arms with a simple swing of my body, but what would my father think of that? So I submitted and allowed for the men to lead me into their home.

The two brothers Wyl and Webb shoved me into a well sized candle lit room not too far from the threshold of the home. I gasped quietly as I was thrown onto a bed. It was soft and warm, a bit firm but at this time after sleeping in the woods for three days straight with nothing but a cloak from my pack, I welcomed it. There was also a smell to it, an intense aroma, the mix of straw, sweat and…ale. No, this bed was not idle, it belonged to someone.

"You alright?" The voice of the head brother answered me, as I sat up to a more appropriate position. The man entered the room, most likely his, and closed the door behind himself.

"I-I want to leave!" It took everything I had to say those four words, for I had never felt something so strong in my life. His lazy gaze and relaxed stance…His pants were loose…

"No can do kid…Or should I say Mannah." The sound of my name forced me to look into his predatory eyes. The harsh creak of the wooden floors underneath him alarmed me as he came closer. "Don't ya remember me? Ward?" I averted my eyes looking to the brown blanket on the bed. I felt the bed shift beside me as the weight of Ward pressed upon it. I prayed to Ilmater to give me the strength to leave, to run out of his place and find my father. I was so frightened of him!

His legs…They were on either side of me and he was pressing himself against me.

"Mannah…You've gotten real big. Almost big enough to handle me." What was he talking about big enough…Big enough to handle him for what?

"Please…go away." His arms wrapped around my bare waist as he continued to ignore my pleas to leave. Hot breath consumed my ear and I gritted my teeth offering up another silent prayer.

"Ya know my brothers, thought ya were a boy. Boy with red veil they called you." One of his hands began to travel down, farther and farther down. "But I knew ya just didn't look like a woman yet. Ya need to develop girl, and once ya do," I blushed and closed my legs forcefully before he could touch me. He chuckled and pulled my hair to the side exposing my neck to him.

"Stop…I want to go." Tears were sliding freely down my cheek, as I could withhold them no longer. Again my pleas fell on deaf ears, as his mouth descended upon my flesh. His lips harshly, caressed and gripped as his teeth pulled and clamped, leaving a slight sting in its wake. After he was finished marking both sides of my neck, Ward grabbed me and pushed me onto the pillows, his body covering mine.

"Grow some big beautiful child bearin' hips and a backside that will make even Brother Merring stare…Then I'll make ya into a real full woman." He voice began to fade as he drifted off into sleep. "It might hurt…but it's worth…everythin'…"

Unable to leave the house without waking him, I slipped into mediation to clear my mind and this dirty feeling that has come over me.

I stepped back into reality the next morning finding myself covered with Ward's blankets. The light of Lathander shined into the room, illuminating everything I was too distracted to see before. Drawers, chest and an armoire lined the walls of the room which seemed to have nothing out of place. Clutching the blanket to my body I made my way to the door, trying the handle.

The delightfully pleasant smell of cooking meat and bread overwhelmed my nose and I followed the scent. There he was sitting in front of the fire watching whatever food there was. I wanted to question him about last night, ask him why he touched me in that way, tell him I would not let him make me into a full woman, scream in irritation about the marks that must be on my neck, yet I could say nothing as I stood behind him. He must have sensed that he was not alone because looked over his shoulder and jumped.

"Dammit, girl! Don't scare me like that." I looked to the floor hoping that the words would come. "Ya seemed to have slept alright…So I thought ya might be tired from your journey, so I made ya somethin' to eat." He gestured to the table on the other side of the room heavy with fruits, breads and other delicious looking foods. "Have a seat."

Ward seemed to have good intentions so I did as I was told and sat at the table. A few moments later he grabbed the pan out of the fire and placed the bacon on a dish in front of me.

"So, Mannah…Where have ya been? I mean, I remember ya being a small thing runnin' 'round here." He walked over to my side of the table, dragging a wooden chair with him. I forced myself not to flinch as he sat next to me, close enough that our thighs were touching.

"Yea…Yeah." He was absolutely too close.

"So…?" I couldn't even think with him so close. Feeling my face heat up, I turned away from him and the meal. "Hey, Mannah? You alright? Come on, just eat somethin' at least." Obediently I nodded and untied my veil; I grabbed roll from the small pile displayed, I brought it to my mouth and took a modest bite.

"C'mon! No manners needed here! No little squirrel bites, I'll show ya!" Ward reached into the pile on rolls and took such an enormous amount of the bread into his mouth that almost none was left in his hand! "See? Now eat."

I have to admit the sight of a grown man eating like a starved dog was amusing, so much so that I must have giggled because he raised a brow at me in question. I said nothing and continued eating the way I was brought up to; everything in moderation only taking in what was necessary for my day. Ward did not seem to mind as he continued his barbaric style of feeding and did not question me further. It was a pleasant, if not awkward silence during the meal, but it was needed.

Once we both were finished Ward took my hand and guided me out of my seat a hapless grin on his face. I needed to leave.

I snatched my hand from him and bowed respectfully; my courage was back.

"I thank you for the meal and…rest." The feeling of his hands on my body clouded my mind and weakened me, yet I had to say this or just run out of the home. "But I need to find my father, he is waiting for me."

Ward continued to grin as he took a step towards me.

_Run!_

By my back was a wall and to the right a table, he was in front of me…but the ceiling is high enough.

I grabbed my veil from the table and quickly tied it to my face, eyes never leaving his. I crotched down and closed my eyes, preparing myself. His heavy footsteps were coming closer to me…this was it! My legs propelled me high enough into the air that I missed being knocked out by the rafters; I landed crouched behind him and made my way for the door. To my horror it was locked!

"I'm sorry…" My open palm scattered the wood that lie in my way, and through that opening I ran up the road ignoring the looks I might have received from passing villagers.

I ran and ran ignoring the burning pain of exhaustion from my legs. Before I knew it, I found myself in front of a well made home closer to the swamplands more so than the center of the village. My legs threatened to give out before me, but I resisted them. I knew where I was and this was the place I had been searching for.

Father. This was my father's home. Suddenly, I felt my fear seep by into me, destroying all thoughts and signals of exhaustion. After nine years I was back. Back to the path of grey stone and back to show him how I've improved.

After a few moments I gathered the courage to knock on the door. With each second my father did not appear, I grew more anxious. What if he denounced me and sent me away because of a change of heart? What if he disapproved of my appearance? What if he did not recognize me?

"Ah, I see you have returned, child." I jumped at the sound of his voice, he was behind me. I turned around to see the man that left me at the temple nine years earlier and there he was, my father, Daeghun Farlong.

"I hope the monks did not teach you bad manners, you do know how to speak?" His scolded forced me out of my shock and into the present; he was right I must speak.

"H-hello…father." I was surprised to find that we were now the same height; he was so much taller in my memories.

"Child." Father brushed past me and went to open the door. On his back he carried his bow and quiver; my eyes scanned the rest to him to find that he also was holding a pair of large ducks in his hand. With a click the door was open and he walked in with me trailing silently behind.

A smile spread across my face as I saw the inside of my home remained unchanged; everything looked to be in the same place that I last remember it. Without a word, father continued in the direction of the kitchen and threw the geese on the table; I waited for him to throw me a glance or acknowledge me but he would not. There I stood in the doorway patiently as he grabbed the skinning knife and stared to prepare the geese.

"I expected you to arrive last night. Why are you late?"

My mind raced to find the right words, I couldn't disappoint him again.

"I was sidetracked on the way here; a group of bandits robbed me." My words were false, I knew that, but I hoped that he would believe me. Ilmater please let him believe me.

"Hmm, I heard those roads where dangerous. It also explain why you have no satchel, did they also cause those wounds on your neck?" Like a puppet my hand wandered up to neck, images of last night flooded my mind.

"Yes!" His eyebrow rose questioning the frantic tone of my voice. "I ran from them…and ended up in front of the house. I ran straight through the village." He did not look at me as I continued my lie.

"Understandable, go to your room and get some rest. You need it. Everything is as you might remember it." I nodded graciously and quickly exited the kitchen, walking up the stairs and into my room. The moment I shut the door, the pain of exhaustion and regret overpowered me and I instantly fell to the floor.

One of the most important events of my young life, the thing that informed me of my upcoming hardships and danger, occurred while I wasn't awake. In my sleep of pure exhaustion a woman appeared to me. Her back was turned but I could tell she was beautiful; her aura was one of comfort and love like the mother I never had. We seemed to be in the air, the clouds gently floating past us, and then she spoke.

"I guess it is you, I called out to." Her voice was small, gentle has if she could have said anything and I wouldn't have become upset. Understanding, yes, completely understanding that is how she sounded. "You have a long road ahead of you, but time is short and my message is long." Her hair, which extended down to her calves, was swept up and moved in the direction of the calm wind which blew past us. It revealed deep bronze skin and a pointed ear, characteristics I would recognize for the next two years.

"I speak on part of my sister and myself, we wish for only one thing…To see him again…To be with him again…This boy, now a man, is the only reason we have endure the torments and struggles of our lives. I know we will see him again, but the reason I have called out to you is so you will be able to deliver him to us. My sister searches for him like a she-wolf would look for her lost cubs; she will kill the creature that is with her cub when she finds it. Grow stronger and fight your fears, kill your insecurities and be passionate, because if he is as beautiful a man as I remember him as a boy…no woman will resist." Those were the last words I heard from her, but soon there was another voice, a beautiful singing voice:

"_I feel I need you,_

…_I just miss you in my life_

_Don't ever let me go…_

_Ah…"_

When I awoke again, I was still on the floor and nothing looked to have changed.

For the next few months life was tolerable, even though I preferred to live at the temple with Gauron and the other monks. Every day I wished to go back to him, to be in his arms, to smell his scent, and every day I felt like whore after being touched by Ward. Plenty of times I tried to fight him off, but he kept threatening to tell my father disgusting things between me and him that never happened. I did believe that my father would take it into consideration what he said; with the way the other girls in the village acted…he believed it was something we humans just did. So every time Ward put his hands on me I had to endure the pang of betrayal felt in my heart; it was a part of my training to do so.

Most days I train by myself in the swamps just beyond my father's home, at one point the militia asked me to join in their training, until I disarmed every person they put me to spar against. For the morale of the men, I was told to spar with every one of the men and women at the end of the week, to see if there was any improvement in their skills. Truthfully, I waited all week for that day, and I enjoyed it, it reminded me of home…the temple and Gauron.

I had gained a friend on the militia named Bevil Starling, he was a kind handsome man four years my senior; he was very eager to spar with me whenever we got the chance. As the summer began to wind down and the harvest was quickly approaching, Bevil asked me to be on his team for the Harvest Fair which was going to be held in a few months. I was so happy that I hugged him, a move so completely out of character for me that I was surprised of myself, I hastily apologized for my actions.

"No need to apologize," he said a warm smile on his face. Even so I moved away from him shaking my head. "While I, umm, have a little time to rest you wanna head out to the grass fields for a while?"

"S-sure," I answered happy to be company to someone else.

We walked over to the grass fields in silence in enjoying the momentary peace in the small village. Soon we stopped and rested by a large tree, Bevil then turned to me.

"You sure are a pretty girl Mannah," he said, looking me dead in the face. I didn't know how to respond to that but he must have been joking, there was nothing pretty about me. Big, broad, strong shoulders, little to no breasts, chiseled man abs (as the girls in West Harbor called them), and oversized hips, butt, and thighs. Before I came to West Harbor my body was not like this…and I'm embarrassed because of the unwanted attention it brings. Bevil must have seen the confusion on my face, because he tilted my face towards his and said:

"Don't listen to those stupid girls, they are just jealous 'cause they don't have the stunning lower half that you have. Not to mention the prettiest eyes on the Swords Coast." Suddenly I felt his lips of my forehead. "But I've never seen you without your veil."

"I shouldn't take it off…" But before I could stop him Bevil snatched the veil off of my face, leaving the cloth ripped. "Bevil!" I screamed, he only laughed holding the red cloth in his hands.

"No more of that. And look at what a pretty face you have." The smile slowly left his face and he became more serious. "I've heard the revolting things Ward has been, saying about you. I've seen the way he touches you…You've got to fight him Mannah!" I was shocked by his kind words, Bevil was on my side…not like the girls that taunted me, or the adults who shooed me away because of the smut they thought I was involved with; Bevil was truly a friend to me.

"Scared…" Was the only word that escaped my throat, but it did not sum up what I was actually feeling on the inside. I was embarrassed by it, too cowardly to fight against him and too afraid to call out for help because of the rumors he had spread. Bevil put his strong arm around my shoulder.

"Tell me, if he bothers you again. I'll pound him into dust and give him to you to shit on!" The very image of Bevil beating Ward into dust made me giggle and soon laugh. After I was done, Bevil offered to walk me home and I accepted. Once we reached my father's home he pulled me into a bone-crushing hug before saying his goodbyes.

I greeted my father and made my way to the washroom, to gaze at the face in the mirror. A smiling gold eyed, fifteen summers old, girl looked back at me. Her hair was a deep mahogany color, almost looking crimson in the light, it was pulled into a high ponytail which sat near to the top of her head and ended at her mid-back and her skin a deep golden brown color. She smiled, showing her straight teeth and then stopped her full lips slightly parted. That night I went to sleep feeling like the happiest person on earth, I had a true friend and I thank Ilmater for having him come to me.

The next day Bevil introduced me to Amie Fern, a very pretty brown haired wizard. He said that we three were going to be a team at the Harvest Fair this year and do things that even Marshall Cormick could only dream about. Amie rolled her eyes.

"Bevil, I'm sure Cromick is past what he did so long ago." Bevil grinned, his eyes bright and hair wild.

"Well, you can be all pessmant if you like, but me and Mannah, here are going to train some, actually get ready. Go study or somethin'."

"It's pessimistic you oaf!" Then she stomped away in the direction of Tarmas' house, Bevil chuckled and tapped me lightly on the shoulder.

"Don't mind her attitude," he said. "She's a nice girl, just a bit temperamental. Come on I'm definitely going to get a hit in today…" He paused looking down at me. "Not too hurt ya of course…er…ya know."

"I understand." I replied with a smile. It seemed he was the only person in the harbor I could smile at and he returned it just eagerly.

When we reached the training grounds, Bevil picked up his sword and charged at me. Unfornately my master taught me never to be touched, and with his moves so predictable, we danced until midday, when was able to tip and pin him to the ground our haggard breathing the only sound heard.

For a tenday we sparred, trained and practiced, Bevil still unable to touch me. Everything was well until the day I was waiting for Bevil at the training grounds. I was alone and like every other time I was there other pairs of militiamen or women spared, but today it was empty not the sharp sound of sword hitting sword, nor the rustle of the militia leathers.

Nothing.

"Well, pretty lil' girls, shouldn't be all the way out here…alone." I didn't have to turn to know that was Ward. His manipulatively kind voice still haunts me even now. Why was it that when he was around I could not summon the strength to move, or speak, or even think?

I heard a soft chuckle, and suddenly I was forced into a possessive embrace, his lips grazing my cheek as he spoke. "You are so pretty Mannah…so perfect…," his hands laid on my hips, "so precious…," the waistband, "so warm…," inside of my smalls, "so exotic." I jumped in fear as his fingers touched me, but I began to feel something. Something that burned…yet it caused no pain. No quite the opposite.

Lost inside the maze I had created for myself I became a watcher in my own life. I felt myself being pulled away from the open field, I saw the road, the swamp trees, the homes of various villagers, and then I was back there. In that bedroom, with the brown blankets and air of musk and ale, where Ward…

He roughly pulled down my loose breeches and smalls, a predatory smile on his face as his hands groped and fondled me; I was so paralyzed by fear that I could do nothing. Ward threw me on to his bed and began to disrobe himself until he stood there completely bare. Again, that wave of fire swept over me my eyes taking in his masculine form. He had a lean, but strong looking chest; he was very hairy from his chest down to…what was pulsing and pointed straight at me. Was that what I felt against my thigh when I was with my master? It scared me, his manhood was angry and thick, with liquids seeping out of it; I rolled into a ball to protect myself but Ward forced my legs open.

"Damn, you sure are a small lil' cat." He kneeled, his face in between my legs. Embarrassed and violated I squirmed and cried trying to get away from his mouth. He was sucking, kissing and licking, toying with me. It burned again and my body arched up to him, I gasped and my hand reached out grabbing his hair, pulling him closer to me. Ward moved away from me and slapped my hand, his face less than pleasant. He reached over and twisted his hand in my hair, guiding me towards his organ. I couldn't watch anymore and I closed my eyes.

The crashing, splintering sound of wood giving and breaking. "WARD!" The voice was anger, enraged…but I knew it, I knew who it was. And in my weak state of mind, I fell into an involuntary meditation.

When I awoke I was surrounded by softness. No longer was on the hard musk filled, ale smelling bed of Ward's…is was something more pleasant more comforting.

"I thought that Ward was after that poor girl. So young too, why can't he just go after someone of his age! I have half a mind to go over there and knock some since into him."

"No, Ma! You can't…we have ta tend ta Mannah. He hurt her I know it…" That was Bevil's voice…was I inside of his home?!

"Well, then give her this tea I made and talk to her! The gods know that the poor girl doesn't need to be alone now…Not after what happened."

There was the squeal of the door opening, and the husky footfalls of a man approaching my bed. I opened my eyes and sat up watching Bevil place the hot cup on the table beside me.

"Thank the gods you are awake, Mannah!" he rejoiced, the bed dripped under the weight of him as he took a seat beside me. "Mannah," he said his tone suddenly more serious, "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have been late. T-Then this would have never happened to you." His hand somehow found mine, his large fingers weaving through mine. "It's my fault…" Now tears where in his eyes. "All my fault."

An Ilmatian monk knows that their own pain is but nothing next to the pain of others. We train and develop our skills for not only defense but for the sake of helping those who cannot help themselves. As an Ilmatian monk I should have never put myself in that situation. All of the confusion, pain, and hurt had to be put aside for another time, because my foolish actions had caused another to feel pain. Looking at Bevil I saw that it was time for me to follow this principle through to the end; my happiness was brought only by the happiness of others and by doing this I must soothe their pain.

Tears had now overflowed and were traveling down his cheeks and into the rough hairs that framed his jaw. Pushing the covers off of myself I swung my legs over the side of the bed and wiped away the tears of my friend with my loose hand.

"Bevil…" My voice was in a soft calming tone that I never thought I could do. Looking back…it reminded me of tone Gauron always used when talking to me, so soothing and calm. "Please don't be upset by this. It could never have been because of you. If anything it was my fault." Bevil's eyes were so wide I thought that they may pop out of his head.

"Ho-" I quieted him by placing two fingers on his lips.

"No, I should have fought him off when I had the chance too. Things unfolded the way they did because I let them, don't blame yourself for my actions…But if you do want to make yourself feel better, we'll just have to beat them in the Harvest Brawl in every event." A small smile appeared on his lips and suddenly I was swept into his arms.

"We are going to make him pay for this!" He sounded happy and that was good. His aura seemed calmer and that was good.

And that was the start of my self-afflicted downward spiral.

As promised I trained with Bevil and when Tarmas let her have a break, Amie watched us too. It was nice to have another female around like the widow Starling; one who believed I was not Ward's newest whore. After one bout of sparing Bevil left to tend to Retta and his siblings, and Amie and I were left to each other. She spoke to me with a blush on her cheeks.

"Ya know…Bevil a really good guy. I don't want you to think I don't like him or anything." Her eyes seemed to be focused on her dress. "I, we, well were together the other night and…"

"I know." Her head jerked up in surprise. "And I suppose you want to know if I approve or should you ask my permission?" Amie nodded and I had to giggle at that. "Bevil thought the exact same thing and I have another…waiting for me…at the temple." Yet, saying those words brought back all the memories and an involuntary wave of loneness washed over me.

Gauron.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought of him, how I missed him. Terribly. The man who made me everything I am today, the man who nurtured me, was like a brother, like a father, the man who is going to be my husband. More than ever I just wished to be in his presence…I just wished to be in his strong arms.

"Mannah! Mannah! Are you alright?! I'm sorry we should have told you sooner…Don't cry!" Her hug was a bitter substitute for who I really wanted. Maybe in the days after the Harvest Festival I would write to him. Yes that would help.

"Don't worry about me," I said gently pushing myself out of her embrace. "I'm just happy for you and Bevil. And when I come back here…m-maybe I'll see a little baby screaming at Bevil instead of you." She smiled down at me, shaking her head.

"None of his little demon children are coming out of me anytime soon." I raised my eyebrow at that. "Manny, we aren't even married yet! Silly girl. Come on, don't you want to learn how to cook for _your_ future husband?"

The Gods had it so that this one of my last encounters with Amie Fern, because the Harvest Fair was in five days and the attack on West Harbor in ten.

---------

"_**Yeah, the night's not over  
You're not trying hard enough,**_

_**  
Our lives are changing lanes  
You ran me off the road,**_

_**  
The wait is over  
I'm now taking over,**_

_**  
You're no longer laughing  
I'm not drowning fast enough**_. -_**Reptila by The Strokes**_

_**-----------**_

_**Note: Bishy-boy will be in the next chapter Yay! Now please review so that I have some feedback.  
**_


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